Ache
by Bryndwr
Summary: Wash has had a hell of a day.  Taylor has a hell of a remedy.


**Summary**: Wash has a hell of a day. Taylor has a hell of a remedy.

**Author's Notes:** Just a little something for **Inu-midoriko**, who is sick and deserves pampering. Since we are on opposite sides of the pond and I can't send grapes or soup, fic it is.

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><p>It was ridiculous how something as trivial as sore feet could make a person feel so pathetic, Wash thought, annoyed at herself. She must be getting soft. That didn't stop her pressing her forehead against her folded arms and wriggling her body against the pillowy blankets, sighing in pleasure. If it was possible to actually meld with a bed, she was doing her damnedest.<p>

In her defense, it wasn't just that her feet were sore. It was that they were three different kinds of sore: stinging, raw, and throbbing. Blistered from the loathsome new boots that refused to be broken in (once more, she considered a mission to find the razor-tailed, scaley little bastard that had destroyed her trusty old combats and bring him home on a spit, for dinner), swollen from the unseasonable humidity, and aching from the half day jog to get home before dark. Malfunctioning Rovers also falling under the canopy of "things that needed to get set on fire" today.

And also in her defense, the ache wasn't strictly confined to her feet. Her back and shoulders were tight as knots (because dammit, she _would_ maintain proper running form if her soldiers were with her no matter _how_ long the run), chafed from her equipment pack, and her side ached from a particularly stubborn stitch. And her joints felt a little sore, sure. A touch swollen. Kind of like someone had packed them with fire ants and said, "have a party."

Screw it, she was entitled to spend the entire evening lethargically decorating her mattress after all. She had nowhere to be, she had air con, icy tea, a plethora of _really_ soft blankets spread beneath her, and she had found that if she lay facedown with her head on her arms and her feet waving lazily in the air, the breeze from the cooling unit hit her burning soles perfectly; the soothing breeze pulsing against the tingling peppermint cream spread liberally over her skin.

So when the door to her house opened and she heard Taylor's familiar tread, she only raised her head for the express purpose of telling him that if he was thinking of bringing her more work, it had better be something she could do without moving.

Taylor chuckled when he beheld her flopped on the bed. He leaned a hip against the door and folded his arms. "Long day, Wash?"

Sighing, she turned her head to rest her cheek on her arm instead; eyes drifting open, she gazed lazily up at him. "Why do we never get a dud Rover battery, say, next to a beautiful and conveniently fortified lagoon? Why is it always right in the middle of some carnivore's game trail?"

"Because that wouldn't be any fun." He moved to sit on the bed beside her, running a hand over her back. Wash hissed and burrowed deeper into her nest as he probed tender muscles. His touch gentled, skimming her shoulders and finally running up her neck. She groaned, eyes falling closed, as his fingers sank into her hair.

"Besides, when you're exhausted, you're a lot more pliable."

Wash tensed for an entirely different reason. "Pliable?" She tilted her head and looked up at him.

He had the nerve to be smirking.

Scowling, she threw off his hand. "You're lucky I'm too comfortable to move, sir."

"Like I said: pliable."

Wash pillowed her head on her arms again and shrugged her shoulders. "I merely suffer you to live. For now."

"Hmm." The amusement in his hum was offset by a suggestiveness that did lovely things to her. Still, she managed to contain the shiver and continue to do an excellent impression of ignoring him. Wriggling her toes, she sought the soothingly cool blast of air again.

The bed dipped as he leaned down to snap off his boots, shifted even more as he stretched himself out fully by her side, back resting against the headboard, his head at her feet. His hand came around her legs, grazed the side of her calf. Long, sweeping strokes teased along the bare skin before coming to rest on her ankle.

Wash smiled into her arms where he couldn't see. When he applied gentle pressure to her ankle, she let him draw her legs back and down to rest against his chest. She lost the breeze, but the brush of his thumb against the side of her foot held its own promise.

Rough fingers circled her heel, tracing the heated skin. Then skirting up the sensitive sides, making her bite down on her arm to keep from laughing reflexively. His other hand joined the first, mirroring his motions on her other foot and doubling the tickling sensations. He moved to the balls of her feet and swept the full spread of his fingers over them.

Wash trembled and sucked in air as the bruised skin stung under his touch. Taylor retreated to less tender territory, rubbing soothing circles across the middles of her feet. It felt absolutely heavenly. She arched up from the bed, pushing her feet harder against his fingers and he increased the pressure accordingly, moving slowly back up to the balls of her feet while carefully avoiding any soreness this time. The swollen muscles almost groaned with relief under his ministrations.

"Ah!" She dropped her head back down at a particularly satisfying rub, clenching her fingers in the weave of the blanket. Low, guttural sounds escaping her with every press of his fingers, her body writhed instinctively against the pressure. Firm circles, a steady rhythm of relief and release. One of his hands cupped her heel and applied the same treatment there, fluttering over the painful spots and then pressing down one finger at a time, until she could bear it. And then until it had her purring.

Taylor's sudden chuckle was a good deal throatier than usual, and Wash grinned into the bed, well aware of what the noises she was making must sound like. It was no surprise when his hands started to wander south, massaging her aching calves, thumbs pressing into the backs of her knees. She squirmed onto her side and tossed her hair over her shoulder, smiling lazily with flushed cheeks.

"Feeling better?" Taylor's eyes were hooded, his returning smile smug.

Her smile broadened. Curling her toes into his shirt, she shifted onto one elbow and crooked a finger at him. He slid out from under her feet and crawled over to lay alongside her, running a hand through her mussed hair to tip her head back and kiss her languidly. Wash fisted a hand in his collar and flopped onto her back, drawing him down with her.

The nest she'd made cradled two as well as it had one, and Wash settled herself contently underneath Taylor, sinking into a haze of bliss. His tongue slid lazily against hers, his hand working under her shirt to rest on her stomach. Shifting together, she drew a deep breath as his thigh moved between her legs, stoking an ember of desire she knew from experience wouldn't let her just drift off in his arms like she'd planned. Groaning slightly, she wound her arms more fully around him and pressed insistently against his thigh.

Smiling against her lips, he didn't grind against her as she had anticipated, but instead moved his leg away. Before she could protest, he slipped his hand down under her shorts and slid his fingers through her folds.

"Oh!" Wash pushed up against his hand in a shock of need. His fingers were coated in the peppermint lotion she'd applied to her feet, and it tingled deliciously against her suddenly aching clit. The heat and pain throbbing through the rest of her body only served to heighten her nerves, increase her sensitivity. She dropped one hand to the bed to dig into the covers, her heels pressing against the mattress. Taylor drew kisses along her jaw and down her neck, never ceasing the motion of his hand.

Wash clung to his shoulder as she drew near her peak, jolts shooting through her every time the pads of his fingers grazed her bundle of nerves. Her hips rolled into him of their own volition, quivering as he brought her higher, higher, closer...

Her orgasm broke over her in a wave of satisfaction, deliciously sharp, taking her breath away. Taylor worked his thumb over her clit, his fingers stroking through her wetness and drawing out every last perfect second, every shiver and moan until she sank back with a gasp, boneless.

Fulfilment radiated through her, and sleep rushed back in to claim her weary body. She fought it, tugging Taylor back to her so he could distract her but to her surprise, he merely grinned down at her and shook his head. He pulled his hand free of her shorts, stripped off his shirt, and gripped her waist to draw her against his chest. Stroking her hair, he deliberately closed his eyes and relaxed, tension leaving his body as he demonstrated his intention to doze.

"How did I get so lucky?" Wash smiled wryly up at him. She pressed a kiss to his throat and tucked her head under his chin, sighing with pleasure at the warmth of his skin against hers.

"Beats me," Taylor murmured. "Must be your pliable nature."

She gave him a half hearted thump before coiling her arm around his waist and getting comfortable, finally allowing herself to drift off into long awaited sleep.

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><p>Taylor stirred to the sensation of fingers walking up his chest. His body clock told him roughly a few hours had passed. It was now dark outside, they were still entwined together at the wrong end of Wash's bed. And perhaps the more crucial detail: Wash had managed to remove all her clothing without waking him.<p>

Blinking away sleep, he regarded with amused fascination the beautifully nude woman currently tracing the lines of his chest with her fingertips. "Hey."

"Hi," Wash replied, amber eyes sparkling. She pushed herself up to her knees and leaned conspiratorially into him. "I'm feeling _much_ better."


End file.
